


say something awful

by valkyriered



Category: Fruits Basket, Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Face Slapping, Family Issues, Gen, Hatori needs a hug, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Sharing Clothes, Shigure is an asshole, the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25438096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valkyriered/pseuds/valkyriered
Summary: “Even when everyone sees the firsthand horrors of it, we somehow maintain our family’s natural inclination towards violence.”“That’s not funny.”“No, it certainly isn’t."contains manga spoilers.
Relationships: Sohma Hatori & Sohma Rin, Sohma Hatori & Sohma Shigure, Sohma Rin & Sohma Shigure
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey friends, there's a very brief reference to (possible) sexual assault in chapter two. If you're not comfortable reading that, please skip this one. 
> 
> this is not part of my hearts & bones AU, so keep that in mind if you've already read those other fics. :)

“Isuzu!”

Rin flinches. She recognizes the voice behind her as Hatori’s, and she briefly considers running. She knows how this conversation is going to go, and she’s already on-edge, having had a vicious fight with Kagura earlier that day, and then seeing her father only a few minutes ago, standing outside the gates of the main house, having a talk with a relative. He had looked over at her, and paused, and looked her up and down with cold eyes. 

And then he’d started walking towards her.

She’d been planning on leaving through the gates, but she’d whirled right back around and run into the depths of the main house, finally settling on aimlessly walking the gardens and constantly checking over her shoulder. The fear had gripped her had been so immediate and intense, and she still feels her heart hammering in her chest. It takes all her willpower to stay locked in one places as she hears Hatori approach from behind. 

If she runs, Hatori will just call Kagura’s mom later. Rin is on thin ice anyways, after she had all but been ordered to leave the house for the day. 

“Isuzu.” He stops beside her. He’s a little out of breath— he must have been running. So he expected her to bolt, then.

“Tori-nii.” She says, dipping her head in a brief acknowledgement of her older cousin, but not looking up at him. 

“You’ve been missing your check-ups.”

Exactly as she expected. “I’ve been busy.”

“You’ve been missing school too.”

A flush of anger runs through her. Hatori is not her father. It’s not up to him to keep track of what she does or where she goes. 

She doesn’t respond. 

“Isuzu… we just want to keep your safe.” He moves to touch her arm, and she jerks back.

“Don’t touch me.” She snaps.

He hesitates, then withdraws his hand. Tucks it back into his coat. “Can you at least wear something warmer?” He says, irritation creeping into his voice. 

Rin looks up at him, angry and suddenly self-conscious. Hatori has said a great deal of invasive things to her in the past, but he seems to understand that her clothing is off-limits. She finds herself wishing that she were wearing higher heels, hating the way he towers over her, the way he eyes the exposed skin on her arms and chest, the gap between her skirt and boots. 

“Fuck you.” She spits at him. He meets her gaze, only looking slightly surprised by her swearing. He looks exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes more noticeable than usual. He’s close enough to her that she can sense him through the bond, and she can feel it— the residue of ‘God’ on him. He’s been with Akito.

Rather than giving her any sense of sympathy for him, it just sets her even more on-edge, as though Akito is touching her through him. 

“You can’t expect to get better if you keep behaving like this.” 

She hates it when he says that. It’s a familiar line from Hatori, although he’s never sounded this bothered by it. She wonders if Akito did something to set him off.

Probably.

  
_You’re not my father._

“Does it make you feel like you’re in control?” Rin asks. “When you tell me what to do or how to behave. Do you feel like you finally have control over something?”

Hatori’s exposed eye regards her dully. “You’re being very childish.” He says, with an angry undercurrent to the insult that feels very unlike him. 

She hates how in-control of himself he can be. Just standing there, quietly delivering judgements to her like they’re absolutely fact. 

“Ever since your eye—“ And to his credit, Hatori doesn’t even flinch— “You’ve been so desperate. Am I your way of feeling better about yourself?” Rin demands. She realizes that her heart is pounding, that her breathing is coming very quickly. 

“I’m not going to just let you kill yourself.”

“Why, saving me for Akito?” Rin shoots back. It hurts to force out the words— to even accuse Akito of doing something like that pushes at the restraints of the bond— but they have the desired affect. Hatori’s cool mask drops for a split second, and she can see the guilt and shame there. The knowledge that he stitches them up just to send them back into battle. 

Hatori flinches. “You can’t say things like that.” For once she can hear the barest hint of upset in his voice. She knows it’s the bond pushing at him, that it’s painful for him to blame Akito for anything. She knows even after Hatori nearly lost his eye he refused to lay any blame at Akito’s feet. 

“Don’t pretend that you care about me.” She hisses. “If you did, you wouldn’t have— you wouldn’t have let him—“ She’s tongue-tied, trying to wrap her head around the memory of Akito pushing her, because even now it still hurts. 

“You know I can’t defy him.”

“You’re supposed to be a doctor. What good are you if you can’t even keep us safe?” It’s not even her words. It’s something she heard a maid whispering to another, and it had sat in the back of her head.

“There is a limit to how much power I have. I’ve done my best to protect you.” He says it like he’s reminding himself, like this is something he’s repeated to himself in the before.

But his best was nothing. His best barely kept her breathing. 

“I have proof of your failure all over me.” 

“You think I don’t know that?” Hatori says. “Do you know the things I see when I look at you?”

She knows. Bruises. Broken bones. Blood and endless tears and stomach pains that kept them both awake. For some reason, his calm admittance of his mistakes makes it worse. Like he’s made peace with it. Like the holy terror that was wreaked upon her body for her entire childhood and well into her adulthood is something that can be accepted or forgiven. The rage is almost blinding.

“Then don’t look at me.” She grits out. She turns on her heel to run, but Hatori grabs her wrist. She yanks against him, but he holds firm. “Let go.”

“But don’t think that I gave up on you.” He says. “Or that I didn’t take care of you.”

“Let go of me.”

“ _I_ set your bones, Isuzu.” His hand tightens around her wrist, and she gives it another desperate pull. “When you were sick, I took you to the hospital and called Shigure for you. When you ran away from the hospital, I went searching for you.”

“That doesn’t change—“ 

“When your mother—“ He interrupts her. 

“Shut up!” The topic had turned to something that she couldn’t handle in her current state. Hatori’s hand on her wrist is firm, and tight, and bordering on painful, enough so that keeping track of where she is and who she’s with is becoming increasingly difficult.

He gets louder, starts sounding more desperate. Like he’s trying to prove something to himself. “When your mother left, and I asked Kagura’s family to take you in—“

“Shut up! Shut up! Stop it!” 

“I took care of you. I made sure she couldn’t reach you. I told her—“

“Stop!” 

Her scream is loud, she realizes. Loud enough for Hatori to stop talking. Loud enough to remind her that they are in the Main House, that her father and Akito are both nearby. That she is not safe here. 

She needs to leave. Now.

For a terrible moment, she has perfect clarity. 

She glares up at Hatori. 

“You’re pathetic.” She spits at him, realizing with a sick turn of her stomach that she’s echoing the words Akito delivered to her before pushing her out a window not far from where they’re standing. And then finally— “Perhaps that’s why Kana—“

She hears the slap before she really feels it. The sound is what surprises her, she only notices the sting of her cheek afterwards. Hatori looks just as shocked as she does, and they’re staring at each other again, this time in quiet surprise. Hatori had never raised a hand to her in anger. Her wrist is free now, but it barely registers. She was expecting him to be angry. She didn’t expect him to hit her. 

“Now, now.” A familiar voice says.

How long had Shigure been there? How much had he seen?

“What’s going on here?” Shigure asks, but the ease that he usually moves and speaks with feels overtly fake. He comes close, moving between them, Rin realizes. Carefully separating them.

Shigure looks down at Rin with such cold disappointment that she has to look away, staring down at a small patch of dirty snow by her feet. Invoking the memory of Kana was wrong, she knows that. She remembers having heard the story, and then imagining if Haru had to forget her entirely. The thought of it was terrifying. Now, without the burning rage from earlier, she only feels cold and empty. 

Shigure turns his back on her, turning his attention to his friend. “Ha-san?” Rin hears Shigure quietly saying. “Look at me.” 

Rin is still shaking, she realizes. Not from the cold. She can’t seem to get her muscles to relax, or her breathing to level out. The sting on her cheek hurts. It’s not supposed to hurt. How had she forgotten to numb herself to this? 

She raises her own hand to her cheek, carefully cradling the raw skin there. It’s still hot, and her fingers prickle from the sensation. 

“Rin.”

Shigure’s talking. Snapped out of her revere, Rin looks up. Shigure’s standing there. He doesn’t look as angry as he was earlier, but Rin knows that it can be hard to tell. She takes a step back from him. Just in case. 

Hatori is gone, she realizes. She looks past Shigure and sees the back of Hatori’s grey coat as he heads back towards his home. His shoulders are hunched, his hands firmly tucked in the pockets of his coat. 

“Why did you do that?” Shigure asks. He sounds so disappointed.

Shame floods through Rin. She shakes her head. 

“Weaponizing something like Kana is cruel.” He says. 

“I know.” Rin says. She bows. “I’m sorry.” She says formally, at a loss for what to do or say, staring down at her shoes. 

“You really think that will work on me?” 

“I don’t know.” Her hands are shaking, and she suddenly wishes she had a coat like Hatori’s to hide away in. She’s not trying to trick Shigure. 

Shigure seems to recognize that. He sighs. “Come on.” He says. “I’ll take you home.” 

Rin balks. 

Shigure looks down at her. “Your father isn’t by the gates anymore.” He says. 

Rin doesn’t like how easy it is for Shigure to read her. He’s probably already put together a neat narrative in his head, analyzing her behavior and deciding that he knows how she feels and why. She feels raw and exposed. She wants to be home, she wants to not be here right now, with him looking at her like he can see right through her. She’s normally grateful that Kagura’s home is right by the gates, just off the main walkway, but right now it means that she’d have to pass dangerously close to them in order to go back. 

She jumps when she feels something touching her, but then realizes it’s the warm weight of Shigure’s coat on her shoulders. In spite of herself, she can’t help but take an inhale of the smell of it, the sweet scent of his cigarettes clinging to the fabric. It’s relaxing in a way that is viscerally embarrassing.

“Come on.”

Shigure doesn’t try to touch her, just trusts that she’ll follow after him, and she does. They walk in complete silence. She slows down a bit when they get to the main path, but Shigure waits for her, casually glancing up and down the way. Checking for her.

He keeps walking, a silent signal that everything is fine. She follows him past the large gates, keeping her steps one in front of the other, avoiding patches of snow and ice as she follows Shigure back to Kagura’s house. He walks ahead of her, but she can tell that he’s looking back because he pauses when she slows down.

Kagura’s mother is outside sweeping when they get home, and Shigure greets her with ease, casually throwing an arm around Rin and guiding her up the steps to the house.

“Rin? Is something wrong?” Kagura’s mother asks.

“She’s fine. Just took a little fall.” Shigure answers for her. 

“Oh.” Kagura’s mother looks suspicious, which is reasonable—being injured and escorted home by Shigure usually means that Akito flew into a rage and got violent. 

Shigure takes Rin inside. It feels strange to have him in the house, even though it’s not Rin’s. It feels intimate, and the last time he was inside her home she was living with her mother and father. 

Shigure removes his arm from her shoulders, all the projected ease disappearing immediately. He looks down at her, and Rin is reminded of how few family members see this side of him, when he strips away all the silliness and misdirection. 

“If you ever do that to him again, I will not be kind to you. I don’t care what your father did to you today. If Hatori were any other doctor, you would not be nearly so well-cared-for.” 

Rin nods, her gaze fixed over Shigure’s shoulder. She wants this to be over. She can deal with the guilt later— she can even go see Hatori and apologize. But right now she wants to curl up in the false safety of her bed and try to focus on anything else. 

Shigure stands and watches at her, and then seems to deflate, his anger leaving him in a moment. He sighs. “Ha-san cares for you plenty. Give him a few days before you go speak to him.” He drops a careless kiss onto her head. Rin moves to shrug off the coat, but Shigure holds it in place. “Keep it for now.” He says. “You need to warm up more. Your hands are still shaking.” 

They both know it’s not the cold that had her shaking, but she nods. She wants to believe it’s his way of forgiving her, but she knows he wouldn’t do something like that. Hurting someone as close to him as Hatori is unforgivable. Only Akito can do something like that and have it be so easily dismissed.

With that, Shigure leaves, and she hears him calling out a goodbye to Kagura’s mother as he goes. Rin tugs off her boots, quickly and quietly heading to her room. Soon Kagura’s mom will want to know what happened, and Rin doesn’t have an answer prepared yet. 

Rin drops her jewelry onto her nightstand, carefully removing her choker and necklaces and unwrapping her bracelet. She leaves on the coat. She pushes back the covers, climbs under them. 

Pulls them over her head. 

In the dark, with the weight of the blankets, she can almost pretend that she’s safe. 


	2. Chapter 2

  
“I walked her home.” Shigure says, taking a seat in Hatori’s office. He takes the pack of cigarettes off the desk and pulls one out for himself, lighting up and leaning back in the chair. “She’ll be alright.”

“I frightened her.” Hatori says quietly. “I’m not used to her looking at me like that.”

“She knows you care about her.”

Hatori makes a noncommittal noise, and takes a slow drag of his cigarette. “Should I expect her to come by later?”

“I told her to give you a few days. I think she could stand to cool off as well, for what it’s worth.”

Hatori shakes his head. “I’m fine. If she wants to come by, she can.”

“Ah, are you going to use that guilt of hers to give her a checkup?” Shigure teases. 

“Probably. It’s for her own health.” 

“You’re a monster.”

“Yes, how dare I keep an eye on her.” Hatori eyes Shigure. “You’ve been shirking your duties too lately.”

“Isn’t Kagura’s mother her guardian?” 

“You know as well as I do that it’s in name only.” Hatori takes another drag of his cigarette. “If you’re going to worry about her, please make the time to check in with her.” 

“You know she’d hate that. Besides, she comes by often enough.” 

“Last time that happened, she collapsed in your living room.”

Shigure waves his hand idly. “But we found her, didn’t we?”

“Tohru did. You just waited for her to wake up so you could bully her.” 

“She needed to hear what I had to say.” Shigure says. “Besides—“ He fixes Hatori with a look. “I’m just her cousin. You’re her doctor.”

Hatori sighs. “Don’t start that with me too.”

Shigure smirks. “I thought she said something to that effect. You were quite shaken, Ha-san.”

“She didn’t say anything that I haven’t already said to myself.” 

“Perhaps that’s why it upset you so much.”

“It’s not like you to say something so obvious.” Hatori murmurs. He brings the cigarette to his lips again, but just holds it there, lost in thought. 

Shigure allows them to lapse into silence. The entire scene had been unsettling. He had been drawn by Rin’s shouting, figuring that she had found some family member to pick a fight with. He certainly didn’t expect Hatori, who Rin only ever fought with to maintain some sort of dignity while in his care. He didn’t expect the bitter, angry words spilling out of both of their mouths.

And the last thing he expected was to see Hatori slap someone, least of all a girl that he’d had his own hand in raising. They’d both succeeded in hurting each other. Hatori wouldn’t look him in the eye afterwards, and had the same horrible blankness on his face that Shigure had seen after he’d wiped Kana’s memories. And when Shigure had turned to take care of Rin, she’d stepped away from him in fear. Shigure had half-expected her to cry, and felt a strange pride when she managed to hold back her tears. 

Shigure quietly chuckles to himself.

“What’s so funny?”

“Even when everyone sees the firsthand horrors of it, we somehow maintain our family’s natural inclination towards violence.” 

“That’s not funny.”

“No, it certainly isn’t.” Shigure smiles. “But when she hurt you, your response was to hit Rin-chan.”

Hatori stills. “You’re angry with me.” 

“Perhaps.” Shigure shrugs. “Or maybe I just don’t like seeing people touch things that are mine.”

Hatori shakes his head. “You’re sick.” 

“We all are. Including you, Tori-nii.” Shigure says, putting a slight emphasis on Rin’s tender nickname for him, one of the few signs of affection that she extends to either of them with any ease. 

“Get the hell out of my office.” 

Shigure raises his hand in mock-defense, but Hatori fixes him with such a dark look that he stubs out his cigarette and gets up from the chair. 

“Rin still likes you plenty, Ha-san.”

“And for some reason, she likes you more.” 

“Yes. I wonder why that is.” Shigure turns to leave. “Have a good day. Get some rest.”

“Go to hell.”

Shigure laughs, but follows his orders and leaves. Part of him does want to check in on Rin periodically, but he knows that keeping her at an arms length is one of the only things that keeps her coming back to him. Watching her body unconsciously relax after she practically huffed his coat was so immensely gratifying that it bordered on erotic. It was a comfort, a reminder that she does still need him, that he can provide for her what others cannot. 

He knows that Rin and Hatori will mend their relationship soon enough. They’ll angst over their respective mistakes and offer each other sincere apologies. The guilt will keep them playing nice for a while, until their relationship settles back into their usual behavior. Perhaps Rin will be a bit warier around Hatori, which is a shame. It’s always a comfort to hear Rin getting angry, to know that she feels safe enough to express her feelings, and physically strong enough to feel them in the first place. 

There’s no way Rin would just leave Hatori behind. Ever since her father raised a hand to her, she’d clung to Shigure and Hatori with a ferocity that goes beyond standard familial affection. Shigure had wondered if her father abused her sexually, but he’d never come close to asking her. He doesn’t bother asking Hatori— he knows that if Hatori knew, he’d tell Shigure. There’s no concept of doctor-patient confidentiality with the Jyuunishi, where the simplest order from Akito can spill secrets like blood. The only time Rin would have answered that question from Shigure would have been as a child, and back then Shigure was too afraid to know the answer. 

Still, the mere thought of it is enraging. He’s sure that if it were true, he wouldn’t be able to resist doing some damage. He’d probably tell Hatsuharu, and then watch with pleasure as the sweet boy tore Rin’s father apart. He allows himself the fantasy for a moment, imaging the man begging for mercy, and Haru digging his boot into the man’s face…

Shigure laughs quietly. He really is pathetic. Perhaps it is the spirit of the dog, twisting his affection into loyalty, and possessiveness, and the anger that comes with it. More likely, this is just a twisted family and a twisted upbringing resulting in himself— a twisted child, whose version of love amounts to jealous ownership. 

Poor Hatori. He’s so deep in the Sohma family that he’s reduced to putting up with Shigure as a friend. He’s sure Hatori loves him, but he doesn’t think Hatori likes him. Hatori knows him too well to really like him. Hatori ultimately belongs in a purer world, with unmasked intentions and kind people. 

Shigure shivers. He’d meant to take a coat from Hatori before leaving, but he’d forgotten. He ineffectually tugs at his sleeves in an attempt to cover himself further, and then sighs and begins the miserable trudge back to his house.

It’s late enough that the children will probably be home by the time he gets there, which at least means a hot meal from Tohru, and maybe some entertaining bickering from Yuki and Kyo.

He starts imagining what Tohru will be making— maybe some soup, it’s so cold out— and then freezes in his steps.

He’d recognize Rin’s father anywhere. He’s slim, and stands taller than he has any right too. His hair used to be a pure inky black like Rin’s, but now it’s streaked with grey. Shigure feels a strange satisfaction knowing that in a small way she no longer looks like him. He stares, willing the man to turn around, to look at him, to see him.

He doesn’t turn.

Shigure exhales slowly, flexes his hands that he hadn’t noticed he’d clenched into fists. It wouldn’t do any good to make a scene. Her father could probably use a reminder that there are people keeping an eye on Rin, but now is not the time. Back when Rin and her parents used to attend New Years’, he always made a point of taking her away from her parents as soon as he could. Now neither Rin nor her parents attend, and there are fewer opportunities to publicly snub them. 

He watches Rin’s father disappear down the walk to their home. He wonders what they’ve done with her old bedroom— if they repurposed it into something new, or if they walled it off and let it gather dust.

Probably the former. There’s no way they’d want to even provide for the possibility of her coming back into their house. 

Shigure inhales sharply, then turns and continues back towards his home. It’s no use getting worked up over this right now. Anger towards Rin’s parents is something that he’s had plenty of time to get used to. Rin may have been borne by them, but from the moment of birth she belonged to the Jyuunishi. Her parents never had any true claim to her. 

He starts walking back home with more intention now, putting distance between himself and the mess he’s leaving behind in the Main House. It’s getting cooler out with the coming evening, and Shigure moves swiftly through the woods. In the distance, he can see the yellow light from the house through the trees. 

When Tohru greets him at the door, he slips into a smile and lies about losing his coat. He teases Kyo about his wrinkled uniform, goads him into shouting. Tohru is still making dinner, so he escapes into his office and slides the door closed behind him.

The last vestiges of sunlight are crawling their way across the floor of his office. He doesn’t bother turning the light on. He eases into his chair, ritualistically lights an evening cigarette. He could write, but instead he tilts his head back and watches the grey smoke drift up to the ceiling. It catches the light as it dissipates upwards, creates the illusion of something tangible before it disappears altogether.

The curse breaking won’t fix things for Rin and Hatori. Hatori is too embedded in the family to have it solve his problems, too resigned to being cursed until he dies. Rin has somehow pinned what little fierce hope she has left on it breaking, and once it’s gone she’ll have nothing left to struggle against. Just herself.

The curse will crumble eventually. He’ll have Akito. And Rin and Hatori, faced with a life unchained, will have to decide what comes next. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whatever amirite
> 
> title from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFqEDAA_Eh4

**Author's Note:**

> i'm gonna be honest here folks, this fic ended up being super difficult to write-- not like emotionally, but just for some reason i was really struggling through this as a writer. i started it a while ago and finished it very recently, and i feel like this is probably as good as it's gonna get. as always, you may see edits in the future.
> 
> if you want to follow me on tumblr, i'm at valkyriered.tumblr.com. i'll probably start posting snippets there that didn't make it into fics.


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